Rivers of Blood and Mountains of Destiny
by Prince of all Saiyans
Summary: Finally, becoming a knight was the fulfillment of his childhood dreams. But sometimes things that were never dreamt of, end up having a more powerful appeal.
1. The Hunt

I don't own WarCraft or any characters of warcraft, yadda yadda. WarCraft is Blizzard Entertainment's and not mine, blah, blah, blah.  
  
  
  
Dirt, soil, and soggy leaves were being kicked about by the thunderous feet which stormed by. A group of nine taurens stomping carelessly on the damp earth, the ground trembling underneath their presence. These were monstrous beasts, enlisted by the Orcish Horde for their brute strength, supreme fighting skills, and the menacing mental intimidation they bestowed upon all their advisories. Each one of these great creatures resembled a mighty, upright bull. Two horns protruding from either side, two devastatingly fierce eyes, and huge golden rings adorning their noses. Standing upright, a tauren would tower over most men, and their massive ramming weapons were formidable. In all, these creatures were the most intimidating and lethal force in the horde. When used in great numbers in close quarter fighting, they were nearly unbeatable. You would not find a tauren in all of the land that would show fear, except to their masters and those who possessed great amounts of magical powers. This group of fearsome taurens was now combing the area for something or someone. A pair of eyes cautiously observed from a group of thick bushes nearby. As the taurens stomped through, a trail of thick dust followed them. One of the three lead taurens stopped, lifting his face to the sky, smelling the air with his monstrous nostrils. All was quiet as the lead tauren inhaled the aroma of the forest air.  
  
"Smells like human juice." The tauren bellowed. "Fan out."  
  
The taurens began to spread throughout the forest clearing they were in, scattering soil and the long golden grass that lay in this treeless area of the forest. They fanned themselves out, scanning trees, grass, and bushes for their quarry. The observer kept quiet, knowing it was the target of this search. He was possibly the last survivor of the battle that had just previously taken place, a battle which had arisen as an ambush, with the sole purpose of killing the one human who had survived. He was in a group with others like him, knights who were escorting an Elvin priestess back to her home deep in this ancient forest. She was one of the few elves that had learned the magics of the priestess, and she was very valuable to her people. The mass of taurens had caught them by surprise, the giant brutes hiding remarkably well in their wait. It was a quick strike, the priestess being struck off her horse immediately. From the bushes dozens of taurens charged the panicked horses and created a sea of chaos. The priestess was slain and the unprepared knights were caught in the onslaught. Horses were crushed as taurens slammed their great weapons into their sides. Riders unhorsed were quickly stomped into the ground by the large tauren hooves. One particular knight was struck directly on his right arm, feeling it shatter as he was slammed off of his horse, falling into the bushes which carpeted much of the ancient forest floor. Slowly he dragged his body through the bushes and leaves on his good arm, as the painful sounds of the remaining knights rang throughout the forest. They were still two days travel from the heart of the forest where the ancient elves dwelled, but these taurens had been extremely brave to wander this forest in search of their intended victim. The knight, sure of this attack being for an assassination attempt on the priestess, continued to crawl away from what remained of the ambush. He would be quick to learn however, of the real reason the taurens were here. He had paused stone still as the thudding of a most powerful and loud creature commanded the attention of every tauren. The injured knight crept behind a particular bush and gazed at the scene in shock. He recognized this new arrival, and he began to think there might be more to this event than the destruction of the Elvin priestess. The large Tauren Chief thudded across the land holding an enormous war hammer which was nearly as tall as him. He surveyed the scene, glimpsing at the dead bodies of man and horse alike, grinning all the while. This tauren was mammoth, even in comparison to the others, and his tail flicked back and forth as an angry scowl formed across his face.   
  
"Where is he?" The tauren chief bellowed out to the others.  
  
The taurens looked around at the carnage, then eyed each other sheepishly. They had obviously been drawn into the battle, lusting for death and the thrill of the fight. They had soon forgotten the purpose of this surprise ambush. After another moment of silence, the chief became irritated.  
  
"Where is the knight carrying the brown banner? Where is the killer of my brother?!" The tauren chief roared through the forest.  
  
One tauren who was brave enough stepped forward.  
  
"I remember him. I had the pleasure of crushing him off of his horse. His body cannot be far."  
  
"Find his body now and bring me the head!" The chief commanded.  
  
So now the sun was drawing nearer to the ground, hours after the ambush had taken place. The taurens still were conducting the search for this one knight. The knight waited patiently as sharp jolts of pain raced through his entire right arm. As much as he wanted to cry out in pain, he would not even as much think of breathing loudly, less the taurens would find him and send him to the same doom as his comrades. The taurens now fanned out, were slowly moving forward in their various positions. One specific tauren was coming uncomfortably close to the hiding knight. He sniffed the air furiously as his great golden ring swung back and forth. His thunderous steps crushed the earth below him and brought him closer and closer to the knight. Weaponless and enduring an incredible amount of pain, the knight felt helpless to defend himself. Ten feet, eight feet, then six, then four, now two. Two feet in front of the knight stood the incredible muscular mass of the tauren. Surely this would be his end. The tauren looked down at the fallen knight, then scrunched his face in a quizzical expression. He stared at the knight for almost a whole minute before moving on, right over the knight and past him. It was a curious moment indeed and the knight struggled to comprehend what had just happened here. Surely the tauren had seen him, for he was staring straight a t him. Yet the tauren had passed him without even touching him. Definitely no tauren would show a human mercy, but for a reason that totally escaped him, the tauren had gone on. As the knight wrestled with these thoughts for a few moments, his ears picked up a noise on the ground behind him. The sound of solid hooves smashing into the ground directly behind broke his concentration. So the tauren had seen him, and now he had come back to finish him off. The knight listened and heard a low snort. A feeling of the creature bending over him came into play, and then he felt it on his back. But what he felt was not the pain of a weapon or hard blow, this was the feel of a gentle nudge. The startled knight managed to slowly roll over and stare up at the culprit. A wide smile spread across his face as he looked directly into the face of his beloved horse.   
  
"That a good boy, Gario." The knight whispered as he patted the horse on the muzzle with his good arm stretched up.  
  
Gario took a step further as his long time rider reached for the reigns of his horse and used it as leverage to pull his aching body up. Now he was standing on two feet, his armor clanging as he managed to start climbing on top of the horse. The knight pulled himself up and woozily sat on top.  
  
"Come on, let's go Gario."  
  
As soon as the command was given the horse stepped forward, only to stop immediately.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Came the deep echoing voice of a tauren.  
  
He had stepped directly onto the path the horse was heading on. Gario whinnied, stumbling backward. The dark brown horse with white splotches slowly backed up as the mighty tauren approached. And then there was a horrific cry of pain flying out of the horse as another tauren attacked its flank with a huge swing of its massive ramming weapon. Gario rose onto his back legs as the two taurens began swinging, sending the battered knight back to the forest floor with an earth-shaking crash. The horse, landing on his side, made a second crashing noise just moments afterward. The noise attracted the rest of the taurens in the area, who thundered from their various positions.   
  
"I found him first, so I will cut off his head." One tauren stated in that commonly deep booming voice.  
  
The knight just looked up from his back, helpless. The other taurens grunted and nodded as they encircled him.  
  
"What a way to go." He chuckled as he stared up at the drooling, maniacal taurens.  
  
The taurens sneered as they gazed down at their foe. One tauren was carrying a sword handed it to the tauren who had claimed the knight. The sword was a giant to all other swords. Its blade shimmered in the descending sunlight as it was lifted high above the taurens head. A cool breeze slid by, flinging leaves along. This would be the last feeling for the knight. And then it happened. Just as the sword was flowing downward, ready to crush through metal and flesh and all, there arose a shrill cry from the tauren's lips as he dropped the sword. The knight watched as the tauren stumbled backward, four arrows deep into his chest, blood slithering down his body. Arrows poured into the taurens standing around him at blazing speeds. Whole waves of these deadly projectiles sliced into them, dropping many after just a few feet of running. Each tauren was seemingly absorbing seven, eight, and nine arrows each. The never-ending barrage found their victims with supreme accuracy as not a tauren escaped. After a few minutes of deep, booming cries of pain and the sounds of the buzzing arrows piercing flesh, the attack stopped. The knight scanned all around him, the blood from his most major wound spilling beside him. Tauren bodies lay in massive heaps everywhere around him. Arrows littered the ground as though they had popped up like long blades of feathered grass. He rolled his eyes around, then stared up at the sky. He was cold and light-headed as dusk approached. He craned his neck to look behind him and an incredible movement caught his eyes. At least a hundred beautiful Elvin archers with bows at their sides, coming out of the woods as though they were a giant white wave. All were clothed in white cloaks, some were hooded and others were not. They seemed to split into groups as they approached, branching off into what looked like little search parties. Some checked the fallen taurens for life, others he could not see, and a few came upon the fallen knight. They gathered around him with the faces of both male and female.  
  
"This one is still alive. What should we do with him?" One fair-faced female archer asked.  
  
Their faces were fading before the knight as he started to lose consciousness. Their voices drowning out, slurring together in his mind.  
  
"Maybe we should put him out of his misery." Another one said.  
  
Then he blacked out.  
  
  
  
*What force was aiding the knight from being killed by the tauren who seemingly saw him? Will the elves who just saved him finish what the taurens started?*  
  
  
  
Chapter 2 coming soon. 


	2. Phantoms of the Forest

Phantoms of the Forest  
  
The night sky was speckled with thousands of stars and the half moon shone brighter than that of any full moon in recent memory. The light cascaded down in slivers through the mighty pines of the forest. Karo, the last knight alive after the tauren ambush, slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The tall, dark pines stood silently, as if not even part of the forest, but guards of something deep within. They were to say the least, menacing. Around him he could barely make out the lines of elves that calmly moved through the forest. Even though the moonlight illuminated everything else, these elves seemed to be difficult to focus on. His eyes wandered for a while taking in sights of unknown forest eyes watching this parade of elves. He attempted to lift his head up, but he couldn't generate the energy to do so. Now he realized he was on some kind of stretcher or cot, being carried through the trees by four quiet elves. They walked gently onward, gracefully carrying the battered knight, without the hint of bumps or dips. He marveled at how these warriors moved so sleekly and silently, not even averting their focus to their newly conscious guest, or captive. Their smooth faces seemed to peer out of the snow colored hoods from their cloaks, like a child peering around the corner at its parents when its not sure if it's in trouble. And then he made the mistake, Karo glanced down at his arm and instantly felt the pain. It jolted through like a thousand miniature bolts of lightning. Blood smothered his arm, covering it in a thick and half-dried gooey mess. His arm felt shattered like a porcelain plate that had been dropped from the highest mountain. He clenched his teeth, grinding them against each other. A heavy smell of some kind of ointment filled the air, slick paste that was layered all over his exposed wounds. They hadn't even bothered to wrap his arm up. Through the forest they continued, and Karo began to play back the events of why he was here.  
  
He had barely survived the training to become a knight, taking the last spot they would be giving for weeks to come. He kept quiet for the most part, sticking to himself whenever there were breaks. This is how it had been all the way into his first battle. He would quickly learn how difficult and lonely combat would be when you were left to fend for yourself. He had isolated himself from his fellow warriors over the months and he had forfeited the fabled tight-knit comradery of his nation's knights. They left him to survive on his own, while they rushed to each others aids during the clashes with orcs that were growing common. Because of this, Karo's fighting skills had greatly accelerated, but his loneliness grew deeper as well. Why could he not muster the courage to befriend these people? Why did he crave their friendship anyway? Raised by his aunt, a crazy witch in the middle of the woods, he had spent all of his time away from others his age, of any age actually. He should be used to being by himself, but why did his heart yearn for companionship? It was too late now though. He had rejected the others first offers of friendship and they had felt spurned. They no longer cared if he lived or if he died, he was just an extra man on a horse with a lance to them now. He needed to do something big, something major to get a second try at this, and then his chance came.   
  
On a routine patrol on the border of the Swamp of Galath, his company came on the camp of a self-crafted coalition of thieves. Theft was not allowed anywhere in the kingdom or in all of the land for that matter, and whether it was war or peace, these vile creatures, man or beast, would not be tolerated. The knights quieted their steeds and silently surveyed the scene. They discovered three injured tauren warriors among them. There had been a report of an elven-tauren battle just two days before, occurring about thirty miles from this very swamp. Like a chain reaction of lights being flipped on, the knights concluded that these taurens had been leftovers from that clash, and the hushed nods of agreement on every knight confirmed their thoughts. The knights surrounded the camp, the first beams of light climbing over the horizon and shining through the chilled, stench filled air that was common of most swamps. Some stayed on their horses, lance at the ready, while others hopped down on foot, drawing swords to the throats of their sleeping enemies. Karo had slid off of his horse as well, the cold steely blade of his sword inches away from a troll's throat. Slowly he inched the sharp point of the weapon toward the throat until the blade touched skin. It was then that another beam of the rising sun struck the eyes of the troll. His eyes popped open quickly and a shriek fell out of his mouth. Karo's sword swiftly sunk deep into his neck, gurgling the troll's screams. Knights all at once thrust swords cleanly into the throats of their victims, and those on horse readied their lances just in case. Tauren, troll, and poacher alike were slain in mere seconds. Thin grins spread along the faces of the knights and sparkles filled their eyes.   
  
"That went rather smoothly." One spoke out.  
  
"Me thinks it was a close one though." Another replied.  
  
"Just my type of morning." A third chimed in, "This will wake you up faster than a cup of Tamlik Brew."  
  
The knights all began laughing. It was then that one of them spotted two others far in the distance, one tauren and one gigantic two-headed ogre. It stood to reason that the two were coming back to camp from some kind of early morning or late night activity. The tauren and ogre seemed to take notice of the group of knights at the very same time. The tauren would have no chance, but the ogre's two heads agreed that it was best to run now. It took off at full speed as the tauren stood its ground. Lance at the ready, the group of knights charged in unison. It was the oldest of the knights who took the lead, Larason, with an armor of bloodstains and rust he was proud to wear.  
  
"I have him!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs.  
  
Larason screamed wildly as he charged the giant. The rest of the group had slowed to a gallop as they let him have his shot. No one thought it was possible for the tauren to do this, but somehow he used an unprecedented speed and agility his race had never displayed. As Larason approached with his lance poised to strike, the tauren simply somersaulted to the side, taking his long, broad sword and sweeping it through the legs of the horse. The sharp crackle of snapping bones was heard as the horse dropped, bringing its armor clanging rider with it. Larason quickly scrambled to his feet just in time to see the tauren's sword slice into the neck of his dark, maple colored horse. The old pro remained calm as a wild smile of yellowed teeth spread on the massive tauren's face. Karo and the others watched intently, slowly edging their horses forward.  
  
"Stay out of this, I can handle it."  
  
Even as Larason spoke, the mighty tauren raised his sword and brought it down with full force. Clang! Even with Larason's muscular arms steadying his sword in defense, he could not keep from shaking from the force, and stumbling to the side.   
  
"This is madness. That tauren will crush him." One knight mumbled with gritted teeth.  
  
"Even so," Replied another "you will not dishonor Larason by jumping in. He has chosen to fight alone."  
  
Karo ignored the conversation of his fellow knights, and watched the collision of knight and tauren closely. The tauren seemed to grin even wider as he came once again, this time with his sword from the side. Another great clang was heard as metal crushed into metal, knocking Larason to the ground and sending his sword flying feet away from him and skidding across the mush of ground. Larason pushed himself up to his hands and knees just as the tauren stopped beside him with his mighty sword raised above his head. With a malicious smirk and a dark chuckle the tauren gripped the sword tighter, Larason looking up helplessly.  
  
"This is where your time ends." The tauren bellowed.  
  
It was then when the turning point came, Karo thought. It was then when his life turned down the path to make him an elven hostage with a shattered arm. That's the moment that Karo charged forward on his steed heading straight for the brute. That's when the tauren leapt backward to avoid the blow, but couldn't. Karo just adjusted his lance and horse rapidly enough, sending the lance through flesh, blood, and bone, plunging its sharpened tip deep into the tauren's side. The lance had snapped, half in Karo's hand and half in the side of the screaming tauren. Karo wheeled his horse around to face the giant, staring him down as he drew his sword. The tauren staggered somewhat, trying to yank the lance out of his flesh. Dark blood oozed all over his hands and the lance as he frantically pulled. Karo charged again, the tauren staring his mount in the eyes, and then it was over. Blood spurted out of his neck like a geyser going off. His head lay a few feet from his fallen body, with that same menacing stare frozen on his face. Karo halted his horse as he tried to catch his breath from the sheer adrenaline rush. Off in the distance stood the ogre, who had stopped to watch the tauren's last fight. For a moment, the ogre's four eyes locked onto Karo's. Then the ogre turned and fled. Karo would not take pursuit. Ogres were incredibly fast despite their size, and even if he caught him, it wouldn't be the best of positions to be in, fighting an ogre of that size one on one. Karo grinned however, he had just saved Larason's life and he was sure to get the hero's treatment. He turned to face his comrades, undoubtedly he had just earned their respect. But as he stared over at his fellow mounted warriors he saw nothing but angry faces all around. And in between him and them, lay the hunched over form of Larason, who had fallen on his own sword. Karo looked in horror and began to speak, but was promptly cut off.  
  
"You fool! Look what you've done! You dishonored Larason so he took his own life." One knight exclaimed.  
  
"But he would have died!" Karo protested.  
  
"Better to die by the sword of the enemy than by your own! Have you no honor?" Another one added.  
  
Karo just stared ahead numbly, unblinking and stone faced. A sly breeze blew in his face.  
  
"They'll go around saving each other in battles, but when someone is about to be executed in a one on one fight they just watch? How absurd!" Karo thought.  
  
And that was how he was in this mess now. The ogre was definitely the culprit who had notified the taurens who ambushed them. Karo wasn't even sure if they had even known about the priestess. Ahh, the priestess. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was smaller and more petite than most human women. Her long golden hair fell in waves, her cute pointed ears just barely sticking out through her hair. Her fair skin had not a blemish to be seen by the eye, and her eyes were like two of the deepest emeralds you could ever wish to see. They seemed to pierce right into his soul every one of the few times he was lucky enough to find her looking his way. Even her breasts were perfect to him. She had about her a certain class too, which he had never seen and it intrigued him greatly. Ahh, yes, he had never seen an elf nor human that caught his eye like the priestess did. At least they called her a priestess, for she had learned all the magics of the normal human priestess, but she seemed so different. The poor priestess, slain face-first in the forest mud for all he knew.   
  
"The priestess." He kept muttering in his head over and over.   
  
It was as if she was appearing right in front of him, lying next to him. He could just imagine her. Yes, the priestess…the priestess! He could hardly believe his eyes, she was right in front of him! About twenty feet away was another small group of elves with one of these stretchers, and yes the priestess was on it! But as Karo peered through the moonlit dark, scanning her face, a tear soon welled up in his eye. She was so lifeless, so pale. Long cuts ran across her face and her body lay so limp, like a bag of grain slung onto a table. He stared at her for a long while, wishing so badly that she would just open her eyes and say she was okay, but she never moved, never flinched, it just wasn't going to happen. Karo looked around again, just barely able to lift his head. The amazement was still there as he wondered how the elves moved so gracefully and quick. He stared around him at the dim figures of the elves, clothed in white cloaks. It was as if an army of ghosts were gliding throughout the forest in the bright luminescence of the moon. Owls hooted once in a while, a creature stirred here and there, and the calming sound of a nearby brook was in the background. Time passed by as Karo drifted in and out of sleep, waking usually because of the pain from his arm. At one point he awoke, gazing down at his arm again. He quickly averted his eyes, glancing up and feeling a soft glow around him. All about him he saw lights, torches, lighted paths, and great monstrous trees, seemingly never ending as they expanded to the heavens. A great number of other buildings seemingly made out of the trees, were rooted all around him, lights aglow as thought the creatures in this place never slept. This was it, their destination, the great elven city of Dur Mahid. 


End file.
